I went to France with a school trip when I was in high school. My French teacher at the time was very young (just out of college) and had never actually been outside of Wisconsin except for a six-week stint in Quebec, so it didn't surprise me too much to discover that actual French people had trouble understanding her She was constantly mistaken for a student. (Didn't help that she's tiny and has kinda pixie-like features . . .)

Anyway, the highlight of the trip (for us) was when some guy in Paris decided she looked like a good person to sell drugs to. He followed our group for three or four blocks yelling "Mar-i-JWA-nuh? You want mar-i-JWA-nuh?" over and over. I have no idea why he thought she specifically might be interested, but she had a terrible time getting him to go away. It finally took the other teacher (who is considerably older and speaks much better French) yelling something long and interesting at him to get him to go away. I kind of wish I had been able to understand what she said; it probably wasn't appropriate for young ears

My husband and I were on a cross country road trip to Mexico, and we'd just passed through Tatum, NM when NIN's "Closer" came on the CD player, randomly. I'm groovin' and reach into the backseat to get some water out of the cooler when I notice a car behind us. We were on a really lonely stretch of road, so this is interesting to me. I then notice that it isn't just a regular car, but a Trans Am.

I would have just thought, "Sweet ride", except DH and I had recently watched the re-make of "Hitcher" with Sean Bean, and he drove that same car. And he caught up to the kids he was trying to kill near Tatum, NM. And the song playing in the movie at that time was NIN's "Closer". I turned straight ahead and just stared out the window while the guy passed us, but I was tempted to see if it was Sean Bean. I told my husband what kind of car it was, and reminded him about the movie, and we both started laughing and checking the sky for helicopters like what they had in the movie. It was truly bizarre, but the sort of thing I've come to expect from that portion of the SW.

In 1971, I was on a package tour of the then Soviet Union. We were in Yalta and the weather was lovely. After Dinner, several of us decided to explore a park near the hotel.

We stumbled on a small outdoor theater. There was no admission fee and there was a colorful folk ensemble on stage. We quietly slipped into the first empty row and enjoyed the show.

When the dancers left, the next act came on before we could decide what to do. He was a stand-up comic. We understood a little Russian but knew we could not follow a rapid-fire comedy routine. Still, it would be rude to leave during his act and the place was very pleasant so we stayed in our seats. We were happy that we did.

In front of us was a group of Russian holiday makers. One of the ladies found the comic very funny. She also had one of those goofy, infectious laughs that makes everyone around here start laughing.

That's exactly what happened to us. We started laughing.

The comic, sensing a receptive audience on our side of the little theater, started directing his schtick toward the lady who was now hooting and wiping the tears from her eyes. Her companions were also convulsed with laughter. The sheer absurdity of the situation got us laughing even harder.

By the time the comic finished his routine, we were holding our sides and gasping. He left the stage to great applause.

Same trip to Italy as I mentioned before, we were in a small town. I can't remember where exactly, but they didn't have a lot of tourists.

I was shopping with a group of about five teenagers. We found this AWESOME shirt in a jar. It had a cool little cartoon on it that one of the kids recognized because his dad liked them. He wanted this shirt, and it came in what looked like a flour cannister, with the little clippy-type latch on the top. (I apologize now for the description, but I can't word too good today...)

Anyway, the shop owner comes out and asks us a question in Italian. We look around. None of us speak Italian, and so far gesturing to what we want and paying has done us quite well when we don't share a language. Nothing but blank stares. So I step forward and ask tentatively if anyone in the shop speaks French, as I've taken about four years of it at this point and can fumble my way through a simple transaction.

Shopkeeper's eyes light up. He repeats the Italian word for French and holds up a finger indicating that we should wait and runs into the back to get his daughter. He goes rapid fire in Italian to her, she asks me something with such a thick Italian accent that I can't understand it. I ask her to slow down and repeat herself, but to no avail. She and her dad go back and forth for a bit in Italian, our group is starting to laugh at the situation at this point. Daughter pulls out some scratch paper and a pen and writes down a question in French before turning it to me.

I look at the guy who wants to buy the shirt and ask him, "Is that the right size and color?" He busts up laughing, so do the rest of us, and he nods vigorously. He buys the shirt, we thank the shopkeeper profusely, and we all walk out of the store laughing at how it took five minutes and two middlemen to figure out if the size and color of the shirt are right.

Also, in that same tiny town, I bought a few manga that I thought my friend had at home. She has them in Japanese and English. I added some Italian to her collection.

Minor story #3. Watching TV, which was hard enough in Italian, but then Monty Python came on late one night. Okay, that's great, it's an English show, I can understand it, I'll just ignore the Italian subtitles. Trying to keep up with them hurt my head anyway. But it's the German episode, so there's German being spoken, with Italian AND English subtitles. My brain was fried instantly. I changed the channel to something else I couldn't understand.

Ooh, that reminds me! During that same trip to France, there was a commercial on TV that had all of us doing double-takes. IIRC, it was a family riding in a car, singing along to the radio (in English). With some VERY dirty lyrics (stuff that wouldn't be able to be broadcast here). And mom and dad and grandma are all happily singing along phonetically. The commercial had a censored subtitle in French, and it was advertising some program for adults to learn English.

Which is all fine and good if you don't know what the lyrics to the song were, but they were very loud and very obvious. Someone on the way home mentioned "I heard this weird commercial . . ." and everyone else in the group said "Oh, I heard that one too! And nobody seemed to notice except for me!"

This was kind of scary. Around 1975 We were returning to our home city one night, driving down an empty rural road. Along the road we saw a man hailing for help. We stopped and he hopped, uninvited, into the back seat of our car, said he had been camping with friends and wanted to go home (to a city in the general area we were going, about 200 miles away). We were shocked, but we did drive him home. He wanted to give us all the money he had on him (I remember it was $40) but we declined. When we reached his house it was impressive, to say the least. Really gorgeous. It turned out he was part owner of a well known restaurant in the city. He told us to go to his restaurant and have dinner on him. We never did, though.

Logged

I've never knitted anything I could recognize when it was finished. Actually, I've never finished anything, much to my family's relief.

My first night in Korea. I'm flipping throuh the TV channels in the hotel and come across a televised Go match. I raise an eyebrow, watch for a minute, and continue surfing. Two channels later was a televised Starcraft match.

This probably belongs in “For Jaxsue’s Brother” ghost story thread, but it happened on a roadtrip.

I a teenager in July 1979, and I was sitting in the backseat of the family car, in a car trip from the West Coast from the East Coast. We encountered a major slow-down in traffic on the interstate in a Southern state. We were literally driving 10 mph, due to some construction and a detour through a tiny town. The town was forlorn, not very populated, mostly closed stores along the route.

We came to a stop sign, and the detour had us to go right. Across the street from the stop sign, I saw several old clapboard houses, in very bad condition, peeling paint, up on some kind of stilts (maybe they were moved due to the road being diverted? Who knows.) The houses looked like they were deserted. Except for one.

On the porch was one old man in bib overalls sitting on a chair, and two children (ages 4-10) standing next to him on his right. The children were unkempt, with their hair sticking straight up, and they were wearing some kind of frayed burlap bags. They were just staring out, expressionless, on this very hot day. I thought it was strange these people just sat/stood there, staring, no expression, no movement for the ten minutes or so it took to approach the stop sign. As we stopped and before we turned I said, “Why are they looking at us?”

My family: Who? What are you talking about?Me: Those people (and I pointed).My family: Don't see anybody.Me: Yeah, those right there!

By then we had already made our turn. I craned my neck, and I still saw them, still staring straight ahead. We decided it was so hot and at the first chance we were going to pull over to a refreshment stand. Further up the road, the traffic gained momentum. We stopped at a little hamburger and ice cream stand, very old-fashion and tiny. There were a lot of cars and people there, and most of the picnic tables were filled.

There was a little room to sit at one table. One young guy (handsome! and my age) was having a vehement discussion with his father.

Guy: Yes, I did see them!Guy’s Dad: No, there weren’t! Guy: You had to have seen them!Guy’s Dad: No, I don’t know what you are talking about!Guy’s Dad: Come on, why would I make this up?

This conversation was just like the one we had in the car. So I asked the guy:Me: Are you talking about those people at the old house back at the stop sign?Guy: Yeah, what did you see?Me: One old man sitting … two kids dressed in burlap … staring …(etc.)Guy: Yeah! Me too!Guy’s Dad: You are both making things up! There wasn’t anybody!Guy: Yes there were! She saw them too! It's weird. Maybe they're ghosts!Guy’s Dad: There’s no such thing!Guy: Then what was it?

I didn’t hear the rest of their conversation, because my family called me away.

I didn’t believe in ghosts, but I did see them! And only this guy and I were the only ones.

We were holidaying on a remote pacific island. Sitting on the beach one day, a local and his friends joined us. He had recently been to New Zealand and had bought a very flash radio. He was showing us which services it could receive and tuned into a NZ station. To our surprise it was my boss speaking and explaining he could not answer these questions as the person in charge of that department was on holiday! Well so I was

Ooh, that reminds me! During that same trip to France, there was a commercial on TV that had all of us doing double-takes. IIRC, it was a family riding in a car, singing along to the radio (in English). With some VERY dirty lyrics (stuff that wouldn't be able to be broadcast here). And mom and dad and grandma are all happily singing along phonetically. The commercial had a censored subtitle in French, and it was advertising some program for adults to learn English.

Which is all fine and good if you don't know what the lyrics to the song were, but they were very loud and very obvious. Someone on the way home mentioned "I heard this weird commercial . . ." and everyone else in the group said "Oh, I heard that one too! And nobody seemed to notice except for me!"

I remember that commercial being passed around at my computer animation school, years ago! Comedy gold!

This probably belongs in “For Jaxsue’s Brother” ghost story thread, but it happened on a roadtrip.

I a teenager in July 1979, and I was sitting in the backseat of the family car, in a car trip from the West Coast from the East Coast. We encountered a major slow-down in traffic on the interstate in a Southern state. We were literally driving 10 mph, due to some construction and a detour through a tiny town. The town was forlorn, not very populated, mostly closed stores along the route.

We came to a stop sign, and the detour had us to go right. Across the street from the stop sign, I saw several old clapboard houses, in very bad condition, peeling paint, up on some kind of stilts (maybe they were moved due to the road being diverted? Who knows.) The houses looked like they were deserted. Except for one.

On the porch was one old man in bib overalls sitting on a chair, and two children (ages 4-10) standing next to him on his right. The children were unkempt, with their hair sticking straight up, and they were wearing some kind of frayed burlap bags. They were just staring out, expressionless, on this very hot day. I thought it was strange these people just sat/stood there, staring, no expression, no movement for the ten minutes or so it took to approach the stop sign. As we stopped and before we turned I said, “Why are they looking at us?”

My family: Who? What are you talking about?Me: Those people (and I pointed).My family: Don't see anybody.Me: Yeah, those right there!

By then we had already made our turn. I craned my neck, and I still saw them, still staring straight ahead. We decided it was so hot and at the first chance we were going to pull over to a refreshment stand. Further up the road, the traffic gained momentum. We stopped at a little hamburger and ice cream stand, very old-fashion and tiny. There were a lot of cars and people there, and most of the picnic tables were filled.

There was a little room to sit at one table. One young guy (handsome! and my age) was having a vehement discussion with his father.

Guy: Yes, I did see them!Guy’s Dad: No, there weren’t! Guy: You had to have seen them!Guy’s Dad: No, I don’t know what you are talking about!Guy’s Dad: Come on, why would I make this up?

This conversation was just like the one we had in the car. So I asked the guy:Me: Are you talking about those people at the old house back at the stop sign?Guy: Yeah, what did you see?Me: One old man sitting … two kids dressed in burlap … staring …(etc.)Guy: Yeah! Me too!Guy’s Dad: You are both making things up! There wasn’t anybody!Guy: Yes there were! She saw them too! It's weird. Maybe they're ghosts!Guy’s Dad: There’s no such thing!Guy: Then what was it?

I didn’t hear the rest of their conversation, because my family called me away.

I didn’t believe in ghosts, but I did see them! And only this guy and I were the only ones.

Every time I think of it, I get the chills.

Have you ever checked the history of the place to see if this is a known vision seen by some people?

Logged

I've never knitted anything I could recognize when it was finished. Actually, I've never finished anything, much to my family's relief.